


Sobredosis

by TeaLovingTooru



Series: Powerpuff Girls Content :') [12]
Category: Powerpuff Girls
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Dancing, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Inspired by Fanfiction, Inspired by Music, Single Dad Butch, Softcore Porn, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-18
Updated: 2020-10-18
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:29:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27072763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TeaLovingTooru/pseuds/TeaLovingTooru
Summary: She hoped… no, she prayed that all of the nights spent in bed, Butch’s arms wrapped around her waist like they belonged there, his lips murmuring soft words for just her ears were enough… she hoped that, no matter how bad she was at showing it, he knew how much she loved him.
Relationships: Butch/Buttercup Utonium
Series: Powerpuff Girls Content :') [12]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1687597
Comments: 7
Kudos: 46





	Sobredosis

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Renaerys](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Renaerys/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Beyond This Morning](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21380698) by [Renaerys](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Renaerys/pseuds/Renaerys). 



> H-H-Hi.......
> 
> So... basically I finally finished reading Beyond This Morning by Renaerys.... I have no words. This fic has made me feel things I have never even felt before and while gushing about it to someone this morning, I compared it and it's author to the greats, because to me, it is and she is one of the greats. I have so many fics that I love so dearly, but in the strangest and most cliche way possible, I love this fic and it makes me feel loved too. So. Naturally, I had to write her greens because well. They are my favorite. And. Ah, I would die for them and her. Period. No doubt about that. 
> 
> So yeah uhhhh, please enjoy :'))

_ “We should consider every day lost on which we have not danced at least once.”  _

_ Friedrich Nietzche _

* * *

  
  


In the time that had passed since the Swathe drama and subsequently the outright, though pissy, love confession she had shared with the ever so annoyingly… wonderful, she’d admit in moments of weakness, Butch Jojo… things had seemed easy, in a way that was almost uncomfortable. 

Buttercup loved it, sure, feeling happy and like not every single moment was going to end in a monster attempting to trample the city and her small family of three, but… at times, it felt almost suffocating and like she was moments away from waking up from an all too perfect dream. Because what was her life currently other than perfect? 

She’d gotten what she wanted, even if she hadn’t known it was what she wanted. She had a family. She had her sisters and all of their love… she had Butch and the cutest little shit of a kid that was Brisa and even, in a way, Boomer and Brick, as things had finally started healing over like a scar even the X had to take time on… she wondered if X had a moral compass telling them to appreciate their mortality or some shit, because it had become blaringly obvious that even though they were Super, they were still strikingly human. 

And humans, for the most part, got to experience happiness in all of its many shapes and forms… sometimes, it came in the form of buying a pet. Sometimes it was dinner out with your family.... And sometimes it was a night in, a woman and her guy, tucked safely under the covers as bare skin met bare skin… that option sounded like the perfect medicine to all of the things  _ not  _ perfect in her new, shiny life. 

For example, she was working late hours the past few months, because of some fucked up drug ring that was taking so much time to snuff out. Buttercup loved her job, but she did not love all of the time she spent at home being asleep or attempting to juggle her time between Butch and Brisa… she loved them and she wanted to devote as much of her time as possible to them. Her family life shouldn’t have to suffer because some dickhead decided to sell bullshit for other people’s crack pipes. 

However, it was finally coming to an end, because finally, they’d done it. They’d put it all to rest and Buttercup was headed home the earliest she had in three months and it felt good. All she wanted, above anything else was to relax with Butch, their(?) daughter and wine hidden in a coffee cup as they watched a movie… she wanted to be in his arms, Brisa falling asleep on top of them halfway through and carried to bed before Butch would come back and they would- ok, dangerous trail of thoughts there. 

That being said, Buttercup tried to keep her thoughts clean, thinking instead of all of the things she would say, if she could find the words. She loved Butch… she loved Brisa. That much was obvious, though she had a hard time still showing it in words at times, which was ridiculous, she knew, but it just… affection hadn’t come easy to her for a very long time. Or, more specifically, affection towards a romantic partner.

Buttercup could sing praises for that little girl all day long and often did at work when members of the office would begin speaking of their children… it had become second nature and her devotion was perhaps only fueled by the sweet photo currently set as her lock screen… the three of them curled up in she and Butch’s bed in those God awful matching Christmas pajamas that the two had insisted they buy during a trip to Walmart for their Christmas movie marathon at the end of the previous year. 

Her devotion, though not always pronounced boldly in words, lay directly in that of her actions… she hoped that was enough for him. He knew what he was signing up for with that stupid ass confession… what kind of respectable grown man admits to being in love with a woman since the ninth grade? When she was in the ninth grade, she’d finally grown into her chest and she had truly fit the aesthetic of ‘grungy teen soccer girl’... she hadn’t even fucking played soccer. 

It was insane, even to her still that he’d had genuine feelings then… a bit of bitterness that he hadn’t said it sooner, but she knew that she wouldn’t trade the way they were for the world… because a world where Butch confessed to her in the tenth grade didn’t include Brisa and Buttercup couldn’t fathom a world without the kid anymore, nor did she want too. 

So… she hoped it was enough. She hoped she was enough for words not to matter that much. She hoped all of the mornings she’d dragged herself out of bed and ignored Butch’s whines to make the three of them pancakes was enough. She hoped her extra special hot cocoa recipe was enough. She hoped… no, she  _ prayed  _ that all of the nights spent in bed, Butch’s arms wrapped around her waist like they belonged there, his lips murmuring soft words for just her ears were enough… she hoped that, no matter how bad she was at showing it, he knew how much she loved him. 

It would be simple to attempt the words… but it would always end the same way Butch, cupping her cheeks, kissing her forehead and putting her out of misery when her eyes began watering with a helpless feeling, telling her softly how much he knew, until she was burning beneath his fingertips to receive a kiss she felt she deserved. She didn’t always know how to gauge her feelings, but she knew without a shadow of a doubt how much she wanted him, for now and always. 

Perhaps that was why she did it, driving out of her way to get Butch’s favorite Chinese and ordering enough for a feast… they were a very hungry bunch and there was no such thing as overeating when you were celebrating a proper night with family. The bags were warm and the smell reminded her just how much she hadn’t been properly eating the past few months and she was silently thankful for moments like these. Moments where she could sit in her car and simply daydream about what was waiting for her when she got home. It was sweet, the way Butch had stepped up for her, making sure the house was almost always spotless for when she got home so she wouldn’t push herself to clean up on top of everything else… it was sweet how most nights, he’d wait to eat and would make them something after Brisa had gone to bed. It was nice to think of how unabashedly she adored him for everything he was worth. 

Walking up the stairs was taxing… not really, for obvious reasons, but it always marked the true beginning of her nights and it was a bit hard to let work rest in her mind, but she finally could, because yet again, the city was currently at peace and she could just relax with her family and that was what she was intent on doing. 

However, walking inside, the house was quiet, which was new… what was also new was the completely immaculate house. It was summertime… Buttercup understood that the apartment was going to be shrouded in toys and the follies of youth… but today, there was none of it. The floors had been mopped and the counters were clean; the only sign of childishness that was obvious were the colorful fridge magnets the family left notes to each other with in the mornings. Her eyes softened when she saw the reply to her morning message. 

The magnets she’d spread out reading a simple, but affectionate ‘luv u guys’ and the very enthusiastic ‘we luv u more’. Her heart ached to read it, a smile on her face as she put the food and her keys on the counter, biting her lip as she slipped her shoes off, walking further inside. 

“Brisa? Butch?” She called, blinking when her super hearing picked up on a sound from the bedroom. Fuck. She sighed, preparing herself for having to tackle some burglarizing bastard out of her bedroom window. 

However, when she opened the door, she found a slightly flushed looking Butch, surrounded by what appeared to be a… very ridiculous amount of lit candles and… dear Christ, please say those were not flower petals on their comforter. 

“Hey, doll.” He greeted, throwing an awkward wave in her direction, which only added to her confusion. 

“Butch… what is all of this? And… where’s Brisa?” She tilted her head, looking around the bedroom to see more novelly cheesy things… fighting a smirk when instead of wine being chilled, she saw a bottle of peppermint schnapps… he knew her too well. 

“Well… you’ve been busy and you haven’t had a lot of time to just… I don’t know, not be a bitter, overworked and tired bitch. You’re hot. No matter what, but even I have to admit those raccoon eyes are getting a little excessive.” He began and she rolled her eyes, causing him to smirk as he moved forward, gently taking her hands. “So I thought it might be nice to spend tonight with just us. Brisa is with Brick and Blossom, probably being spoiled out of her ass, as you are about to be.” 

She looked up at him, attempting to find words a few times but nothing seeming to fit before she finally asked the question on her mind. “Uh… why?”

He blinked, apparently not having expected to receive any questions. “Because I love you and have missed having your fine ass body pressed against me.” 

“Oh, so because you have blue balls.” 

“First of all, with a woman like you in my life, with an ass like that? Pressed against me all night and I can’t put it in? Not even the tip? You’d have blue balls too.” He teased, but wrapped an arm around her, hand resting on her hip as he used his free hand to tilt her head up. “But seriously… I just… I don’t know, I want to spoil you, I guess. Let me spoil you, you bitch.”

She laughed softly and shook her head, resting her forehead against his shoulder for a moment before her eyes trailed back up to his face, kissing his jaw. “Sure…” 

His smiled warmed at the soft confirmation, reaching behind himself to click a button on his phone and suddenly, music was pouring through the speakers and she laughed shaking her head as he twirled her around, arms wrapping around her as though they’d done this a million times… she couldn’t remember off the top of her head more than two times that they’d danced… but somehow, with his arms wrapped around her like this, his chest pressed flush against her back and hips encouraging her to move to the music and follow his lead, she felt as though they had. 

The smile on her face grew and she laughed softly as their hips met in a bump and grind, inherently romantic in it’s soft sexuality that only grew when Butch pressed in close, holding her tight and singing softly in her ear… her brain only just catching up that it was Spanish. 

_ “ _ _ Y puedo morir encima de tu cuerpo…”  _ His voice was deep, hot against her ear and so incredibly… wonderful.  _ “Amarrado a tu cama sobredosis de sexo.” _

She couldn’t help the smile that spread over her lips, because even though she didn’t understand the words falling from his lips like a prayer, her body felt like it did, warmth licking at her abdomen like a flame guiding the way for someone in the dark during a thunderstorm… Butch was her thunderstorm. 

Her face flushed despite herself, biting into her lip as his hands touched her in a way that felt more grounding, one hand pressed against her abdomen, the other sliding against her hip before grabbing her own, twirling her to face him, pressing their hips flush and looking her deep in the eye as he held onto her waist and his left hand rested gently against her ass, pulling her in impossibly close as her hands fell limp to her side before finding purchase around his shoulders and curling into his hair. 

_ “ _ _ Quiero morir en tu interior…”  _ He grinned softly, lips pressing to her skin for a moment as the words continued to soothe her mind, body and being. Everything felt so blessedly intense in the most gentle way. _ “Juro que me perdone Dios… Si estar contigo es un delito, hago mil años en prisión…”  _

Buttercup, despite her best judgements, felt herself melting in his hands, slightly breathless as her eyes met his and he squeezed her ass gently, earning a soft moan to fall from her lips before he grinned, gripping her hips and picking her up. Her legs found their place wrapped around his waist as he leaned forward, pressing her against the bed, dance forgotten for a dance of an entirely different kind… the kind her body was more than accustomed to and blessedly ready to greet in a passionate exchange.

She found herself moaning into his mouth as his fingers pulled at her tucked in blouse, sliding underneath and lighting her skin on fire of the realest metaphorical kind. There was something addicting about those calloused fingers on her bare skin, pressing in gently, not enough to bruise even a regular person… she was obsessed with the feeling. 

She was addicted to the feeling of Butch’s fingers unbuttoning her jeans, hands pulling them off and fingers sliding beneath the waistband of a sorry excuse for underwear, making quick work of them and feeding her addiction as he made those callused fingertips known to the most sensitive of places… gentle in all their roughness. 

Perhaps it was the bruises he was sucking into her neck that did it, coupled with his fingers exploring her depths with so much weeping excitement you’d think it was the first time… she remembered, breathlessly, the clumsy fingers that came with the first time and the way it was now, it was obvious just how many hours he’d spent learning her body, desperate to make her want him…  _ need  _ him. 

That thought was amusing somehow and as Butch slid down her body, plush lips working over inch of her until his lips joined his fingers in their quest, she felt a weak laugh fall from her lips as her back arched, moaning halfway through. She felt his eyes on her face and she looked down at him, biting into her lip so hard she could feel it bruising. 

“W-What the hell are you looking at?” She asked between notes of pleasure, voice slightly shaky from the onslaught of tingles shooting up her spine. 

She saw his eyes roll as he ignored her, eyes closing as he somehow dove in deeper, mouth working her as though he was created just for this purpose… that thought was enough to make her whole body flush, head tilting back with a soft gasp, fingers deftly pulling at Butch’s black locks, heart pounding at the groan he gave out. 

When he pulled away her lips mumbled soft pleads for more and to stay put, but the look in his eye stopped her from asking once more, her mouth falling slack as he came back up, cupping her jaw and kissing her deeply… the kind of kiss they talk about in shitty romance movies… the kind of kiss that leaves you so utterly breathless you can’t imagine anything better. Buttercup was indeed breathless… and she couldn’t imagine anything better. 

It was embarrassing, even still, being able to taste herself on his lips, but a more devious part of herself, one only he had the allowance to see, took great pride in it. That was her slick on his lips…  _ she  _ was the one he lit candles for and sang to and danced with… like they were the main couple of one of those previously aforementioned romance movies. She’d never thought she’d be ok with that sort of thing… but now, here she was, lips fervently pressed against those of the only man she was sure she’d ever loved… how fucking cheesy. 

Her heart seemed to be going a mile a minute, but she didn’t feel flustered by it, since she could hear the tell tale pounding of Butch’s own heart in his chest, moving as fast, if not faster than her. Raw passion had filled the room, making it easy for Butch to grip her hips, pulling her onto his lap as he ground against her, swallowing her moans as he blindly reached for a condom, riping it open and pulling it snugly onto himself, letting her take the lead and when she did…? She saw stars. 

No matter how many times or how rough it got at times… she would never tire of feeling his body, pressed against her… invading her every inch with his passion and heat. There was something breathtaking about it… the way she felt safe in his hands, even when they simply gripped her hips and even in the times that they would wrap around her throat in a way that might once have been alarming. She wasn’t scared of him, his hands or herself and what those things could do to her. 

She knew what they could do to her, what they did to each other… she knew and she never wanted to stop feeling Butch’s touches, whether they were as soft as feathers or as crushing as cement. Butch knew how to love her like no one else ever would and that, for her, was more than enough. 

Maybe that was why her hips stuttered, breath shallow even though they’d only just begun, trying to keep up a fervent pace, cheeks flushed as unspoken words rested on her lips, begging to pour out but needing something more to slip out into the heated air their breaths had created between them. Every single nerve in her body was aching, begging for him to love her the way she loved him…

Butch did not disappoint. His hands gripped tightly on her hips, flipping them so she was below him once more, sinking into the pillows as he pushed up one of her legs to push in deeper, moving languidly… like water rippling in a stream at the slightest disturbance. He was taking his time. 

This, she was sure, was something she’d never felt before. They’d had sex hundreds of times… but this, she was sure, was not sex. This felt like every loving emotion she’d ever felt, soaring through her veins, singing praises to her body as she took and took and took… simply let Butch take her, lips pressed to her neck and murmuring praises against the flushed column of her throat that she was too in her own head to hear, but all of them reached her… every single one. 

Butch was giving and she was taking everything she could, eyes brimming with tears as her throat clenched, eyes fluttering as he slid home in the most blessed, sacrosanct ritual she’d ever know, body pushed over the edge as waves of pleasure washed over her, completely spent and Butch’s hips grinding to a halt as he too crashed into the near euphoric state of orgasmic bliss. 

They’d never, ever had sex like this… but she hoped they would again. 

Butch’s face had safely tucked itself into her neck, kissing gently at her skin and shivering occasionally with an aftershock when her muscles would clench around them, soft sounds falling from their bruised lips. When he finally pulled back, she found herself the victim of a most handsome face with an even more handsome expression… but why did he look so worried?

“W-What?”

“Dollface, you’re crying…” He frowned, reaching out and gently cupping her cheeks, thumb gently wiping away a stray tear and she blinked, finding he was indeed correct.

“O-Oh… God, that’s fucking lame…” 

“What’s wrong?” He asked, voice soft but cautious, not wanting to overstep any boundary she might suddenly raise. 

“N-No, um… nothing’s wrong.” She laughed breathlessly, leaning into his hand. “I’m… I’m happy. That was… that was really fucking good…” 

“You’re… crying because the sex was good…?” He asked, not fully convinced. 

She took a moment to study him, the way his cheeks were still flushed up, the soft crinkle by his eyes that showed his concern… the small pout to his lips that she just wanted to kiss away. And then, in that moment, words didn’t seem so bad or scary… she could use words.

“I-I just… I love you. And I’m like so stupidly fucking happy and I don’t think I could be happier than I am right now, but knowing you, you’ll prove me wrong and then I’ll like actually fucking die of happiness or a stroke or some shit and then you and Brisa will starve to death because you forgot how to make breakfast and I make the best pancakes because it’s how my dad did them and I just… I’m my dad and you’re the mom I never had and I love our kid and our life and I feel like I’m dying.” 

Butch was staring at her in surprise, taking in every word before a warm smile spread over his face as he cupped her cheeks a little more purposefully, leaning in and kissing her forehead so soft she almost felt as though it never happened. 

“Baby… hey, it’s ok… I get it, I feel like that too… not- not the dad part, because well… I never actually- my point is, I love the fuck out of you. And I hope you know that.” He smiled, looking at her with one of those looks it still shocked her to see on his face… even after all this time. “Do you? Know that?”

She nodded softly, air filling her lungs after she released the breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. “Yeah… y-yeah, I know…”

He smiled, softly patting her cheek. “And I know you love me… and the kid.” 

She laughed softly, shaking her head and nuzzling into his palm. “Mm…”

“Now… how’s about… I pull out, fucking regrettably, and we take a nice shower…. I fuck you again in said shower… wash your hair… and then we eat whatever the fuck you brought home because literally fuck me in the dick that smells good… and then we can pass out, you in my strong, manly, loving, sexy arms.” 

She snorted. “You’re sick. You need an actual mental evaluation.” 

“That’s not a no.”

“That’s… yeah, that’s not a no.” She mumbled softly, looking up at him with too much love and wonder in her eyes to be comfortable. Fuck. She was turning into Bubbles. 

He laughed softly, kissing her head and slowly pulling out, grinning at the sound of displeasure she made but suddenly, an odd look washed over his face and she frowned.

“Butch…? What is it, you look like you just saw a rat fuck a pigeon.”

“Um… I… well-” He cleared his throat. “Don’t panic… but… the condom, um… broke.”

Needless to say… panic ensued. 


End file.
